I was so in love with my college girlfriend and this one time, there was for whatever reason, a coed model downstairs in my dorm as I went walking by.
Since, like I wrote yesterday about my staggering hops, it was known that I could touch this light that was, maybe, 10.5 feet from the floor, one of the guys that had the model surrounded had me do it.
I did it.
Then the guys that had the model surrounded all went into what seemed to be a circle of praise for this chick.
By the time the circle reached me, I had nothing to say.
I was in love.
And the thing is, every time I saw that model from that day forward, she would stare at me.
As I would later come to understand, since I’d been the only one among my peers that had not been fawning, mine became an important perspective.
Now I’m watching as a bunch of Twitter bitches go off on that no-talent hack Amy Schumer because in her new movie, I Feel Pretty, the premise is that after bumping her head, she, despite being fat, ugly and, well, herself, starts to imagine – and “imagination” is what it would take, trust me – that she’s beautiful.
And yeah, you get it.
You see the point.
You’re not a child.
Without being told, you been figured that her angle is that “confidence” is everything.
But what I think is missed between the sexes as between the races is the ability to either compensate or overwhelm that comes with what white people call “aura” or what Black people call “glow”.
Dave Chappelle’s infamous Rick James skit did a great job demonstrating what effect Rick’s aura/glow had on Charlie Murphy.
The shrewdest celebrities manipulate that shit at will.
Still, when this book I just read, Cool: How the Brain’s Hidden Quest for Cool Drives Our Economy and Shapes Our World, by Stephen Quartz and Annette Asp, made what should have seemed to be the absurdist claim that Black people have a higher self-esteem than white people, I did note that those comparisons were based solely on relative self-esteem.
In other words, niggas felt they were better than other niggas at a higher percentage than white people felt better than other white people.
And while for some, that might solve the “fat white girl lust” dilemma made famous by that great Chris Rock routine
I’d counter, as I have, that Black dudes are just more courageous about our actual tastes and unlike Constanza Porn-addicted white boys, don’t hide an affection for big chicks with the need to organize “Pig Roasts” or other such nonsense.
Also like I’ve written before, big bitches are coming back!
And like I keep saying, taste in women, like taste in anything else, is far from being intrinsically motivated and is way more subject to peer pressure, aesthetic climate changes and even marketing.
Personally, since as Negro, I know I’m supposed to like fat white hoes, if my taste did run white – which they overwhelmingly don’t, I go more along these lines:
But I do know this: even my standard of white beauty will have to stand in line behind the Amy Schumers of the world when this whole Rubenesque thing is back at it’s apex – & kept real, the first 50-60 minutes or so of Trainwreck weren’t half bad – so you’d better grab a fat white bitch now (if that’s what you’re into) or else you’ll just be another dude standing in a circle waiting on your turn to pay a compliment.